Holland Road
by Swing-Stole-My-Heart
Summary: Louis' brother has been missing for four years, and everyone assumed he was dead. Shortly after the liberation of the Netherlands in 1945 his brother shows up again. Now they have new problems to sort through. {1940s au - Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, Moldova. More details inside.} - Rated T for occasional strong language and alcoholism. Based on the Mumford and Sons song.
1. Chapter 1

_**Important!**_

I do _**not**_ support Nazis or any form of white supremacy or discrimination of _anyone_ , and do not intend my work to be taken that way. I purely used this time period and subject matter for creative reasons.

Characters:

Boris - Aph Bulgaria

Vladimir - Aph Romania

Louis - Aph Luxembourg

Lauren - Aph Belgium

Daan - Aph Netherlands

Lovino - Aph S. Italy

Antonio - Aph Spain

* * *

 _July 17th, 1945 - 10 weeks and 3 days after the liberation of the Netherlands._

Red streak, blue dot, green curve, yellow corner. The oil painting hung in the dirty glass window, next to others. The whole shop window stood out against the street corner. Louis could see it before he was around the corner. Vladimir turned the sign on the door, and caught sight of Louis. He waved at him as he opened the door and Louis ran to hug him. He buried his face in Vladmir's smock, and Vladimir chuckled.

"Hey bud, how's it going?" He asked.

"I haven't seen you in so long!" Louis cried, his voice muffled.

"It was just last week! You act like I was gone like…" He tralied off, trying to reword the sentence, "Like it was a month."

"But I _missed you!_ I couldn't wait to see your paintings!" Louis tore his face away from Vladimir and took his clutch from the smock.

"Well it's nice to know that you like them."

Boris came up from behind them and chuckled.

"You two are making a scene on the sidewalk," He said, putting a hand on Vladmir's shoulder, "Come on and get inside."

Louis followed them into the shop, smiling.

"Is Auroch here today?" He asked, his smile uninterrupted.

"He's in the back, mixing paints, where's your sister?"

"She's talking with Daan at Toni's bakery!" He acted like his dead brother talking to his sister was normal.

"Daan?" Boris asked, taking the brush from the canvas.

"Yeah, he came back last week when you were sick! He's kinda grumpy and his breath smells funny, but he's still Daan."

Vladimir whistled between his crooked teeth as the door swung open.

"I never thought I'd see the day," he said, walking over to Daan, who had just walked through the door with Lauren, "Daan Van der Berg, it's been a while."

Daan grunted as a response, a cigarette clenched in his jaw. He had on a dark brown leather jacket and his faded blue button up was half tucked into his slacks. His hair was wild and matted, his eyes looking tired.

Boris turned from the canvas, and his eyes widened. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but all he got out was, "W-welcome."

Lauren, who had been with Daan when he walked in, was setting up a new canvas when the paintbrush dropped from Boris's hand. She grabbed it for him, and when she looked up his eyes were still wide.

"Yes, it _is_ Daan," She said, and when he tried to talk she interrupted him with, "It's a long story. I'll tell you later."

Louis had watched their interactions silently before, but now he was satisfied-and a little bored-, so he walked to the back of the small shop. He turned a corner into a backroom, one filled with wooden crates and empty paint cans, and found Auroch nestled between two crates, a can of paint between his knees.

He had his mess of black hair in two pigtails, and his heavy wool coat and shorts were riding up his thighs. Auroch was only a year younger than Louis, but Louis liked to rub it in his face, a lot.  
"Auroch!" Louis called to get the other boy's attention. He knew that he couldn't fit in the small space that Auroch was in, and didn't feel like knocking down crates and attracting his sister's attention.

Auroch looked up quickly, and knocked his head into a slab of wood.

"Ouch!" He shouted, and Louis could hear Vladimir's muffled call: "Don't go starting any fights in the storage room, boys!"

"Yes, sir!" They both called back, and Auroch wriggled to where Louis was standing, near the doorway.

"Are you done with your job?" Louis whispered, even though the adults were talking loudly.

"Sure, I was finished ten minutes ago, but it's not like I'd tell Boris or Vlad. They'd make me pick up new supplies and the shop is five blocks away," Auroch said, smoothing out his coat and shorts.

"You wanna go to the bakery? I'm sure they're not open yet, so all the bread will be fresh," Louis suggested, poking his head out of the doorway to make sure that neither Daan, nor Lauren, nor Vladimir, or even Boris was looking. None of them was even remotely interested in what was happening down the hall from them. They all seemed engulfed in their noisy grown-up conversation.

Louis took Auroch's hand and scampered to the back door. Auroch took his small black hat from the hook hanging on the wall, and Louis pushed the door open quickly so it wouldn't squeak. Both boys escaped out, and into the alley. They crept down the alley towards the street, and crawled under the shop windows. When they were where Louis was sure that they were safe, he got onto his feet again. Both dusted their knees off and sighed.

"You said the bakery, like Toni and Lovi's bakery?" Auroch asked, straightening the hat on his head to where he liked it.

"Of course, where else would I go?"Louis asked, taking the smaller boy by the wrist and pulling him along the sidewalk.

It was quiet as they walked for a while, just the bustle of Amsterdam. Auroch had his eyes trained at the ground, when he piped up with a question.

"Where was Daan?"

Louis looked behind him in alarm, but Auroch wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"Well, I don't know. Lauren knows, and Toni and Lovi know, and it seems everyone knows without even saying anything. But not me."

Louis's eyebrows crinkled. He fidgeted with his sleeves and pushed back his hair more often.

"I'm sorry for asking," Auroch apologized, taking Louis's hand.

"You're...fine," he said, pausing, "I just don't get their silly grown-up stuff, and why I'm not allowed to get it. I thought Lauren would be happy when Daan got home, but everybody's been flat mouthed and nodding. I don't get it!"

"Me neither." Auroch agreed, quietly.

They walked down the street until they reached a particular overhang that had the familiar burns and bullet holes of a post war, well, _anything._ But the bright lettering was still there, yet slightly faded. It read "Antonio and Lovino's Bakery".

When they walked in, a little bell tinkled above the door and Antonio poked his head out from under the front counter where he was stocking muffins. He smiled at the boys and waved.

"Hey there, you little heathens," he joked, "Did you know that when a bell rings an angel gets his wings?"

"My brother doesn't believe in that," Auroch chimed in, as he sat down at a table against the wall.

Antonio cocked an eyebrow before replying, "Well that's just like Boris too."

Lovino walked around the corner from the back of the shop, holding a pan of steaming loaves of bread and setting them down on the counter.

"Do your brothers know you're here?" He asked, souring the mood.

"No, not that they'd care," Auroch said, putting his head in his hands.

"You'd be surprised," Antonio said as he bustled in and out of the back of the shop.

Louis sat down next to Auroch and swung his legs under the table. After a few moments of silence and just the sound of shoes scraping busily against the floor and the occasional slam of an oven door, Louis decided to ask a question that had been brewing through his mind all morning.

"Where was Daan if he wasn't at a POW but he couldn't come back?"

Antonio and Lovino stopped in their tracks. They exchanged looks and then Lovino sighed.

"Look, I wish I could tell you, but if I did your sister would kill me and you wouldn't understand anyways."

"How do you know?"

"How do I know what?"

"How do you know I wouldn't understand? All the adults act that the war going on was just and grown-ups thing but it's not. It was happening everywhere, and I'm part of everywhere. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm blind."

There was more silence before either Antonio or Lovino could think of an answer.

"Look, there's a difference between seeing it, and understanding it. As much as I'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt, I can't. So we'll just have to wait until I can, okay?"

Louis paused before he responded, then sighed, "Okay."

Antonio popped out of the back and clasped his hands together and took a heavy inhale.

"Well," he exhaled, "It's barely ten o'clock in the morning. I say we take a break and play some cards?"

"Go fish?" Asked Louis.

"BS?" Asked Auroch.

"Poker?" Asked Lovino.

"Um, go fish, sure. Where did you hear that, Auroch? And what the- what no!"

They all laughed, as if Antonio and Lovino didn't know something terrible, Louis wasn't worried out of his mind, and Auroch wasn't scared of everything.

Lauren watched Daan carefully, trying to predict his every move. She thought she knew her brother, but now it seemed that everything was changed and she couldn't figure it out. She thought that finally she'd gotten him a project he'd be working on for a while, so she could begin to work but then she smelled the suffocating smell of smoke and looked towards Daan.

He had lit up a cigarette and was smoking it with his face just inches from a canvas. Lauren jumped up and swiped the cigarette from his mouth and threw it against the ground, violently stomping it out.

"What was that for?" Daan asked with a deep voice. It had grown more worn and husky since she'd last seen him.

"You can't smoke in here! You'll burn the whole street down if you smoke inside!" Lauren said, her voice strained.

"Well, then I'll smoke outside," He said, taking an unlit cigarette from his pocket and pushing the door open.

Lauren sighed and shook her head.

"Hey Boris can you close my paint can please, I'm going to be gone for a few minutes," Lauren said, heading towards the door.

"You could just say it if you have to use the bathroom," Lauren heard Vladimir mutter under his breath.

When Lauren was outside she couldn't see Daan anywhere.

"I'm over here," Daan said, lighting a cigarette, leaning against the corner of an alleyway.

Lauren stomped over to him, her blond hair curls bounced as she walked.

"You _know_ you can't smoke in the shop!"

"Yeah, I know, I just wanted to talk to you without those two hovering over us like buzzards," Daan said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

"Louis and Auroch?"

"No, I saw them sneak out the back door a while ago, I was talking about Boris and the vampire," Daan said, leaning his head back.

"One, how could you just let the kids walk out the back door, and two, Vladimir is _not_ a vampire. I'd appreciate it if you didn't make fun of my employees."

"Look, what I wanted to ask is, how are you going to tell Louis?"

Lauren leaned back against the wall next to Daan and he offered her a cigarette.

"No, thanks. You know I don't smoke," She said, pushing his hand away, "I don't know how I'll tell him."

Daan nodded and sighed.

"I mean, how are you supposed to go up to your six year old brother and say, 'Hey, I know it's strange that your brother was gone for a majority of your life while serving in the German military involuntarily and everyone thought he was dead but now he's back and an alcoholic'."

Daan smiled and laughed just a bit, "I didn't think of it that way."

"That's the truth, though."

"Yeah, I know," Daan lost his smile, "There are so many things I wish I didn't remember, and I suppose that's a bit obvious, with the alcoholism and all, but do you know how many friends I lost?"

Lauren looked up with somber eyes, "How many?"

"Too many."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Hey there audience! This is not my first fanfic, but it may be the first decent one I've uploaded. Thank you to the readers of the original story, boy that was a trainwreck. Thank you to my friend, let's just call her Kansas Mom (she'll know who she is when she reads this), for getting me to get off my ass and finally finish this and for being so pumped about it! I'll probably upload fairly infrequently just because of school and art club and other bs that I do. I hope you can understand! Thanks again!


	2. Chapter 2

There was a sort of silence in the air, like the world wasn't fully awake yet. Louis opened his eyes slowly, but it was still dark so he had to blink a few times. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and yawned. Lauren and Daan weren't awake yet, so he swung his legs out of the covers and padded across the house to the back door. Their backyard was a small clearing in a forest of large evergreen trees. Just under the back window there was a small garden of orange and yellow tulips.

Louis closed the old squeaky door as quietly as he could and sat down on the old stone step. Little grasses and flowers had grown up through the cracks in the stone's foundation and the rocks had spots of moss covering their sides. He absentmindedly scratched some of the moss off a smooth stone on the top of the step.

He looked up at the stars over the endless dark horizon. There were more stars than freckles on Lauren's face and shoulders, he noticed. He tried to think of how they were the same stars that Daan saw when he was away. If he saw stars. Did they let him see the stars at night?

He sat on the back step, twirling a blade of grass between his fingers until the dark night was stained with pink and orange clouds. He stayed until he could hear Lauren clattering pots and pans in the kitchen, calling him back into the house.

"How long have you been out there?" She asked without looking at him, peeling an apple.

"A while," he said as he walked to the kitchen table.

"You almost gave me a heart attack when you weren't in your bed."

"I just wanted to go outside."

"Well," she sighed and turned from the window, "leave a note first, okay?"

Louis nodded, "Okay."

Lauren turned back to the cupboards, chopping up fruits and dropping them into a pot. Louis reached for the middle of the table where the radio was and turned it on. It crackled to life and through the static a song came through. There was a sing-songy British woman singing of freedom and lovers and war. Like always.

Daan made a noise from his bed and turned over, towards the wall.

"Maybe you want to turn that down a little bit, dear," Lauren said with a pensive face.

Louis gave her an incredulous look back and turned the dial so the volume went down.

"Laury, where was Daan last night?" Louis whispered to Lauren from across the kitchen, though Daan could still hear it from his bed in the corner.

"He was just," she knit her eyebrows even further, "Rediscovering Amsterdam. He was gone from home for a long time, he just… needed to see it again, at night when we lived in the city."

Louis, ever full of questions, asked, "Why don't we live in the city anymore?"

Lauren turned from the stirring of the pot and put her hand on her hip as she sighed, "You know why we don't live in the city anymore. It wasn't safe."

"But can we move back now?" Louis had his hopes up.

Lauren snuck a worried glance at Daan and shook her head, "I think it's better if we didn't."

She was thinking about the night before, when she had to pry him out of a downtown bar, struggling to keep him from taking home a blonde _drunk_ American girl. He was probably mid-hangover right now, and though she had sympathy, she knew _that_ well was going to run dry soon.

Shaking her head, she took a cracked mug from the shelf and filled it with water from the tap that she had to pump the handle a few times to get water to come through. She nudged Daan, even though she knew he was awake, he muttered a few profanities in German before turning to face her.

There were dark circles underneath his even darker eyes. His hair was a mess and he was so pale Lauren thought he looked dead.

"I'm sure you know how to deal with hangovers, but would you please drink this water?" She asked, in her kindest voice, one she reserved for when Louis was sick or hurt.

"I don't need water," he said in a husky, accented tone.

"Yes," she returned, "You do, or else you are going to get worse. I may not drink, but I am not clueless."

"I'm fine, I don't need the water."

"I swear to- just drink it!"

"I don't want to!" He shouted, smacking the cup out of her hands. It hit the floor and smashed into shards.

Louis watched them quarrel, acting like the mug was not there. It was the first time since Daan was taken away that he was truly scared. Their voices rose, hands started flying, shouts turned into screams, and he couldn't back into the corner any farther.

With as much courage as he could muster, he ran to the other end of the house, towards where Lauren was having Daan screaming at her in a mixture of Dutch and German. He ran towards the shards of porcelain, trying to scoop them into his hands. All he wanted was to clean them up so that Lauren didn't step on them.

"Louis get out of here!" He heard Daan shout at him between his insults.

Louis stayed quiet, though seeing was getting harder due to the tears beginning to well in his eyes.

"I said get out of here!" Daan grabbed him by his wrists, forcing his to stand up and for the shards to cut into his palms.

Louis scrunched his face up, trying to stop crying. There was blood running out of his clenched fingers and Lauren was scratching at Daan's hands, trying to get rid of his ironclad grip on Louis' arms.

"You never listen!" Daan released Louis with a shove, showing no compassion in his eyes, or feeling in his voice.

Louis fell to the the ground and with his hands still holding the porcelain they flew back and hit his cheek, making his face hot with pain and blood.

"Daan! Stop!" Lauren was trying to push back on Daan's chest, as he started walking towards Louis.

"I-I'm sorry!" Louis squeaked out as he dropped the shards of glass and scrambled to his feet.

"You were never raised right," Daan spat at him.

"I'm sorry!" Louis repeated, the gap between himself and Daan was steadily closing and in a frantic hope he dashed to his right, towards the front door. He pulled open the heavy oak door and didn't bother putting on shoes before he sprinted out.

A dirty brown cable-knit sweater and stained corduroy overalls were all that protected him from the cold of early morning. His bare feet stepped on rocks and dirt, but he wasn't thinking about that then. He was just trying to _leave._ His short, gasping breath made puffs of steam in the air. The blood from his cheek ran down his neck and into collar, staining the sweater a dark red.

The path he ran down was one he'd only been down a few times. It was a shorter way to the city, but it ran through thick woods.

He turned a sharp left, and leaped over a log that had fallen in the path. Branches were low-lying and he had to duck before he ran right into them. He didn't, or rather _couldn't,_ slow down. He knew that Lauren and Daan would be following him, whether on the main path, nicknamed the Holland Road, or on the shorter path.

Soon he came to a clearing. The sun was up by then, and the heat was starting to creep in. He could see Amsterdam on the horizon. It was close. So, so close. Sprinting with his last bit of energy he ran up the path, his breaths became wheezes and as soon as he was safe inside the city, he stopped, leaning against a railing on a bridge for support.

In comparison to the chaos of the morning, Amsterdam was surprisingly quiet. A boat passed silently underneath him. He looked around, gathering where he was in the city. Then, he knew where to go.

* * *

Boris didn't expect a knock on his door at 10 AM that Saturday. He also didn't expect it to be Louis, with his face and hands bleeding.

When he pulled Louis inside, Auroch rushed over, panicked beyond belief. Vladimir was close behind with towels and a wet rag.

That's when Louis gasped out,

"So I was lost, go count the cost.

Before you go the Holland Road,

With your heart like a stone you spared no time in lashing out,  
And I knew your pain and the effect of my shame, but you cut me down,  
You cut me down."

* * *

 **A/N:**

I am _back._

*backstreet boys plays in the background*

Welcome to 2017 guys here's your new years gift *yay*

Sorry I didn't specify in the first chapter: auroch is moldova

Anyways, when I said sing-songy british girl i was _specifically_ targeting Vera Lynn

*still salty over George deValier*

See you soon, you little heathens


End file.
